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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22862461">What do you want to do?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaHouseMoon/pseuds/TeaHouseMoon'>TeaHouseMoon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, Alternative First Meeting, Elio is a student, First Time, I’m trying a new thing, M/M, Oliver is a bartender, Oliver looks like Armie did in Wounds, Sex, Smut, WOUNDS AU, reader’s choice!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:47:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,100</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22862461</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaHouseMoon/pseuds/TeaHouseMoon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver is a bartender in New York. Elio is a student on a night out. What will happen? :)</p><p>This is a WOUNDS AU (Without the horror/freaky storyline)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Oliver/Elio Perlman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>105</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>119</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So, I wanted to try something different!</p><p>This story will be made of short chapters, and you guys the readers will chose what will happen next!<br/>I will give you options at the end and the one that gets chosen the most in the comments, I will go for... </p><p>Thought it could be fun and something different to do! :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio had been watching the bar for the past two hours. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Slyly, of course, pretending to pay attention to what his friends were saying - talking about football and what happened the last time they went out on the prowl - buying his rounds of drinks when needed, pitching into the conversation every now and then but never moving his eyes away from the bar for too long.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He couldn’t risk losing sight of the super hot bartender on shift that night.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He was tall. Well built, his t-shirt sleeves short enough to reveal firm, muscular biceps. He had dark blonde hair and a short, messy beard, and blue eyes framed by long eyelashes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio couldn’t take his eyes off him. Not when he was serving customers - reserving smiles for some and frowns and looks of judgement for those who were obviously drunk and likely to start being nuisances - not when he was cleaning the counter or counting the cash.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Not when he chatted to a pretty, brunette girl who’d been sat at the side of the counter the whole night.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio had bitten his lower lip when he’d seen that happen the first time. They seemed friendly - he couldn’t tell if there was anything more behind their exchange. They obviously knew each other well.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Not that Elio would be surprised if he found that the gorgeous bartender was a womaniser, one that slept with a different girl every night. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He just wished he knew him, too; he wished he could think of something to say to him to strike a conversation, that wasn’t something lame like talking about the weather, or asking for directions, or ordering more drinks that the bartender would serve without further words, anyway.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I think you should go there and say something.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio snapped his head around to look at his friend Jack. His eyes wide, as if caught in flagrancy of a crime.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“What are you talking about...” he tried, weakly - but Jack shook his head.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Aw, come on, Elio. You’ve been staring at that dude all night. I mean, looks hot, I guess? If I was interested in guys I’d tap that.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio covered his face. “Stop speaking like that.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Prude,” Jack slapped his arm playfully. “We’ll be leaving soon. Last chance. Come on, you’ll eat your own arm when we leave here and you never see him again.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">That was true. Elio didn’t know if and when he was ever going to see this guy again. This wasn’t their usual night out - they were only in Brooklyn tonight because of their friend Ella’s insistence. They likely weren’t going to come back here - he likely wasn’t going to, not without a reason. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He bit his lower lip again, looked up at the bartender once more, now laughing with a customer, seemingly someone he knew.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Come on. Go and say something,” Jack spurred him on. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">But Elio’s heart was beating fast, really fast. He wasn’t used to doing these things; all the people he’d met so far were kids from his summer college.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Maybe I - maybe I can leave him a note?” he tried, voice low.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I mean, sure, Jane Austen,” Jack chuckled. “But what if he doesn’t see it, or he throws it away? I say go and speak to him.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio swallowed. The bartender was standing behind the bar, drying a plate with a cloth. He had large, sturdy hands. He was so tall, almost intimidating. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio wondered what his voice sounded like, when he wasn’t saying things like ‘single or double?’ or ‘that’ll be six fifty, please.’</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He swallowed again, and thought about what to do.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I guess - I guess you’re right,” Elio nodded. “I guess I’ll go and speak to him.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Jack patted his shoulder, smiling. “Good man. What have you go to lose? Worst comes to worst, you won’t see him again.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah,” Elio swallowed. His eyes still trained on the bar, he felt his heart beat even faster, if that were even possible.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He considered the situation. The bar was lively and full enough that it wouldn’t be too noticeable if he got up from his table with his friends and went to talk to the bartender, but at the same time it was quiet enough that he shouldn’t be too much of an annoyance to the man behind the bar if he did manage to spit out a word or two. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He swallowed, and took a breath, forcing himself to separate the hands that he had wringing together and hold them alongside his sides while he stood, and walked to the bar. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He was terrified, but at the same time he found himself more and more impatient to know the guy’s name, to hear his voice.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Except, once he was nearly there, Elio realised he didn’t know what to say. ‘Hi’ would sound lame, and certainly was going to earn him some puzzled looks. Ordering another drink could work in getting the bartender’s attention, but he would still have to find something else to say, or the exchange would end once he got his order. Talking about the weather or the day was even less cool than a simple hello...</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Well hi there, darling.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The surprise at hearing a voice from next to him was so stark that Elio’s head whipped around sharply. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The voice was female, and, once Elio focused on its owner, he realised it came from the lady that the bartender had been speaking to the whole night. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">She was pretty, with long, painted nails, curly hair, and a lot of her dark golden skin on show. She seemed so confident.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“H-hi,” Elio replied, his heart skipping several beats.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“We were wondering when you were going to come over. You’ve had your eyes on the bar the whole night.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Busted. So immensely, irremediably, horribly busted. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio almost felt woozy, and blamed the stupid drinks he had, Jack’s stupid idea that he should go over and talk to the bartender.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I, no, I mean, I was looking for someone, I - “</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I think he’s blushing,” the girl said, and she was smiling, and looking at the bartender, a gleam in her eyes. The guy chuckled softly, picked up another glass to clean.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio lifted his chin, set his jaw. “I’m not blushing,” he said, doing all he could to keep his voice firm.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Okay, okay.” The girl nodded. Then, she patted the empty stool next to her. “Come on honey, sit next to me. This one’s going to abandon me in a second like he always does.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Abandon me? Elio frowned, though, almost without noticing, he was doing as she’d asked, and sat on the stool next to her. Did she mean it in a “couple” way? Were they together?</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He chanced a look at the bartender, who now stood across from them on the other side of the counter, his arms crossed, a quizzical look on his face. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio really wanted to know his name.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I’m Alicia. And this is Oliver,” the girl said. Somehow, another shot had materialised in front of her, and she downed it in one go, with practiced ease. “What’s your name?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Elio,” he replied, tried to sound firm, authoritative. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Oliver. His name was Oliver.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“And I guess I should pretend I have already checked your ID and you’re twenty-one, right, Elio?” Oliver said.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Oliver. Oliver talking to him. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio wanted to swallow, but he lifted his chin again, looked up at him.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I am.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“He is,” Alicia echoed, and her eyes gleamed again. “Come on Oliver, leave the kid alone. Give him something to drink, in fact.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio frowned at her again. “I’m okay.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">“See? He’s okay,” Oliver repeated, and shook his head, bent a little to wipe the counter, though Elio could still feel his eyes on him.</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Alicia sighed.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“This guy is no fun,” she said, rolling her eyes. Then she turned towards Elio fully. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“So if you’re not here to drink, what are you here for, gorgeous Elio?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio looked at her, and then to Oliver. She was obviously drunk; she was weird. Elio had never had to deal with people like her, but then again, this was his first experience in a late-night bar.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He glanced towards the table where he and his friends had been sitting earlier. It was empty, now.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I - I was here with some friends,” he said, not wanting to expose himself too much.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Alicia smiled. “But then you came to us.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Leave him alone, Ali.” Oliver’s voice came as if in a dream. Elio didn’t want to move his eyes from Alicia; but he heard him, loud and clear.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The girl rolled her eyes again. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Oh, come on. I have two gorgeous men in front of me, one is ignoring me and the other I can’t even talk to?” she said, her tone whiny. “Elio. Don’t you want to have some fun tonight, honey?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">She was leaning towards him, and Elio leant back a little, his first instinct telling him to stand from the stool to get out of her reach. She wasn’t trying to touch him, and he was sure he was just overreacting - but he was alone, in a bar in Brooklyn, in an area he didn’t know, and his friends had left. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He swallowed, feeling his heart beating in his ears.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“No more drinks for you,” he heard Oliver tell the girl, heard her sigh again, though her hand was stroking down his arm.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He needed to leave.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I - sorry, I have to go,” Elio mumbled, and got up from the stool, walked quickly towards the first door he could see.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The cold air from outside greeted him suddenly; it was like he’d just remembered it was late at night. That wasn’t the main entrance - he was in a hallway. Somewhere he didn’t recognise. He stayed near the door, squeezed his hands into fists, wanting to keep his wits about him. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Stupid, so stupid.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Hey.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The voice nearly made him jump out of his skin.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio turned around, and Oliver was there. His apron off; his face concerned. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Hey. Are you okay?” he asked. Elio didn’t want to look at him, but he glanced from the corner of his eye, still keeping his distance. Oliver’s eyes were wide, worried.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I’m fine. You didn’t have to come after me,” he forced himself to say. He didn’t need his pity.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You’re shaking like a leaf.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Oliver’s voice was gentle, and Elio allowed himself to listen, though he didn’t like what he was saying. He was probably coming across like some child crying for his mommy. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He kept quiet, looked away.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I’m sorry about Alicia. She gets drunk, she doesn’t know what she says. She’s used to a certain kind of people who come to this place.” And then, his tone even gentler; “Not like you.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio wanted to protest; he wasn’t made of glass, Oliver didn’t have to comfort him as if Alicia has scared him. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">But instead, he shook his head, repeated his mantra. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I’m fine.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Okay,” Oliver nodded. “Let me get you a taxi. It’s late, and looks like it’s going to rain.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio blinked. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He wasn’t expecting that. A taxi would certainly be useful right now - he didn’t know where the nearest subway was, didn’t even know what time it was - but he didn’t have any cash, and-</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“It’s on me. Come on. Let me do this, my friend wasn’t the best host tonight, let me make up for it.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t make himself utter a word. He just looked at Oliver, at his eyes, that seemed sincere, at how he was pulling out his phone, getting ready to call an Uber for him.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He was one phone call away from never seeing Oliver again.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">But he couldn’t think of anything to say. His heart was beating faster now, again. What to do? Ask for his number, and risk looking weird, or desperate, or deluded? What if Oliver wasn’t interested, what if he laughed at him? What if he was taken, what if he was really with Alicia?</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Or perhaps he could just take that cab. Go home, and then come back tomorrow. When Alicia wasn’t around, and wait for Oliver to be less busy, try and strike up a conversation again - perhaps say he was there to thank him for the cab?</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“What do you say? Ready to go?” Oliver asked, softly, a moment later. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">And Elio had to make a decision.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Soooooo.... what should Elio do?</p><p>Ask for Oliver’s number? Or come back tomorrow?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio took a deep breath.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah. Yes, thank you.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Oliver just nodded, with a half smile, and then lifted his chin towards the main road. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Come. There’s usually always taxis loitering around out front.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">And there was indeed a taxi, waiting by the curb, just like Oliver had said. Elio hugged himself into his jumper, and knew he was a little disappointed. He wouldn’t have minded having to spend a little more time with Oliver.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Now, he would take that cab, and go home, and would never see him again.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Here we go,” Oliver said, opening the door of the taxi for Elio after having checked with the driver that he was available.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“What can I do to repay you.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio realised how his sentence must sound only after it was too late. He set his jaw, while his heart did a somersault.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I mean - I mean, what I meant is - I want to give you back the money, I -“ he babbled.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You don’t need to,” Oliver smiled. “I told you, it’s on me.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“But at least let me buy you a drink. If you - if you give me your number I - I can get you a drink to say thanks.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio swallowed, hugged himself tighter with his arms around his chest. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">God, he was such a disaster. He usually was never like that. But the thing was - Oliver intimidated him. Oliver was different, Oliver was so handsome, and new, and older and interesting. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio was a mess.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I’ll give you my number, because you need to text me to tell me that you got home okay.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Oliver’s smile was gentle while he spoke. Before Elio had even registered what happened, Oliver had his hand outstretched, waiting for Elio’s phone, and the boy deposited it in his palm without a word, watched him input numbers into the screen quickly, as if in a dream. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">And then, the phone was back in Elio’s hand, and he was gently nudged into the taxi, Oliver’s voice wishing him good night - and then the car drove away. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">‘Thank you, I’m home. I had a good time’ </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">No. Elio deleted the letters, started again.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">‘Just got home now. Thanks for getting me a taxi. Maybe tomorrow we c-‘ no. No no no. Oliver had only said to let him know that he got home, he hadn’t given him his number to chit chat, or act weird. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">No. Elio needed to be cool and collected.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">‘Hi Oliver. Just texting to say I got home ok. Thank you so much. Elio.’</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio sent the text. Swallowed. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">It was fine. It sounded okay. It sounded cool.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Now, he was going to put away the phone, and undress and brush his teeth and go to bed without looking at it even once. Certainly without checking every ten seconds to see if Oliver had replied, certainly not wishing for a nice text, no, no, no. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Oliver wasn’t going to reply. Or even if he were, he’d probably send a thumb up, or an ok, non committal - he’d only done his job in making sure the person he helped find a taxi for got home safe. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">That’s all.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio undressed. Washed his face. Peed, wore his pijama, tiptoed into his room to make sure his roommate Jack didn’t wake. Put himself in bed, plugged his phone to charge, and then lay down, with a sigh.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">And then his phone screen lit up.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">‘It was my pleasure. And I’m sorry again for what happened. I hate to think that it scared you away and I will never see you around again. Oliver.’</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio re-read the text once. Then twice. Then three times.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Wait, what - what was Oliver saying? He - he hated to think he’d never see him again. Is that what he said?</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">No. No - he was probably just being nice. Right? He was being nice and trying to get Elio to come back as a customer, like any good bartender would do. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Right?</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio’s thumb hovered over the phone screen. He wanted to reply. He wanted to reply, but he didn’t know what to say. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He didn’t know if he could say it. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He breathed, grit his teeth. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He was going to respond. What was the worst that could happen? </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>What do you want Elio’s text to Oliver to say??</p><p>Comment here with your text and I will pick one to continue the story! :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Don’t worry, I’m braver than you think. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio looked at his phone. The word ‘delivered’ shone underneath his text to Oliver; and his hand shook as he held the device, and took a breath. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He’d done it, he’d texted him. Hopefully something non-committal, but also teasing - something to get Oliver’s attention. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He bit his lower lip, and waited for the three dots to appear on Oliver’s side of the conversation that showed that he was replying. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Nothing yet.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Ten minutes later, and still no response.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio took another breath. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">This wasn’t the right approach to the whole thing. He was taking it way too seriously. Oliver was just a hot guy in a bar. He’d met him for minutes, at most. They’d texted once and that was probably it. He shouldn’t overthink it so much.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He should just go to bed, because by now it was nearly three in the morning.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio sighed, and placed his phone on his nightstand, screen down, forcing himself to lay down and turn the other way, and let sleep make him forget everything for a while. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The day after, as Elio got ready to go and have some breakfast, Jack came back from his run.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“So?” The boy asked, drying his forehead with a towel. He was drenched in sweat.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Sat on his bed, tying his shoelaces, Elio frowned. “So, what?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“That guy, last night,” Jack smiled, and winked. “Did you hook up with him?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“What? No,” Elio moved to the other shoe. “No. I just spoke to him, that’s all.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Oh, dude, that’s such a waste! You didn’t even get his number or something?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio considered whether he should say anything at all; concluded that he had nothing to lose, he supposed. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah, got his number, but that’s it, ok?” He stood, grabbed his school bag.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Hey, no no, you gotta call him,” Jack said, his voice urgent.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Ah, nope. We texted each other. He hasn’t replied to my last text, so.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“But see, that means he likes you!” Jack’s voice was becoming more and more high pitched. “Ok, tell you what, go back to the bar.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“No!” Elio tried to walk past, but Jack wouldn’t move. “No, no, that would make me look like a stalker. No.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“No way. You just need a reason! Like, for example - Jenny left her jacket at the bar last night. I was gonna go and get it but, why don’t you go, instead? So you have a reason, and you can see him, see what’s up.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio wanted to say no, straight away. No, that’s a bad idea, no, there’s no point in pushing this. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">But instead, he stopped. Looked away, bit into his lower lip, just like he’d done the night before. Maybe, just maybe - what if he did that? What was the worst that could happen, right? It had somehow become his mantra since the night before. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">And he really did want to see Oliver again, even just see him, even if they didn’t speak or interact at all.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Come on. You have nothing to lose,” Jack said, echoing his thoughts.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio rolled his eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Fine. Fine. I’ll go, and get this jacket, and then - leave. Just like that.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Jack smiled, triumphant. “Yes,” he nodded, patting Elio’s shoulder. “Just like that.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">It was the afternoon and so the bar was quieter than the night before, having just opened a couple of hours before, and Elio walked in, directed to the counter, his hands wringing together behind his back. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He looked behind the counter quickly, but he couldn’t see anyone who looked like Oliver. There was just one girl, blonde and petite, who was washing glasses, and turned around when Elio approached.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Hi, what can I get you,” she asked, robotically, chewing gum in her mouth.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“N-no, I - I’m just here because - I’m looking for something that my friend left behind last night.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The girl stared at him for a moment, as if uncomprehending; then she clicked her lips, and nodded. “Lost property?” She asked, and Elio nodded. “Yes. A jacket. Blue with gold bands down the front.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The girl stared, still, and then spoke. “Ok, well, it will take me a while to find it so why don’t you have a drink while you wait?” Obviously she wanted to make sure she got her tip. “Here you go.” She poured something in a glass, placed in front of Elio.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio sighed. A moment later she’d already disappeared through the door behind the counter, and he sat down on the stool, deciding he may as well have a drink while he waited, just like she said.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Hey.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The voice was as familiar as it was unexpected, and Elio whipped his eyes back from where he was distractedly looking at the few customers coming in and out to see Oliver, now behind the bar, appeared as if he were a vision. His heart gave a jump - oh god. He wasn’t expecting that to actually happen.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You - you remember me?” he said - and screamed at himself mentally right after. Shit shit shit - he must sound like a total loser...</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">But Oliver just smiled. He didn’t laugh at him, didn’t snigger, like Elio was expecting. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Of course I remember you,” he said, and his voice was low. He was looking right at Elio, and the boy felt his cheeks go warm. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He looked down, and back up. Oliver’s gaze was so intense.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I just thought that you-“</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I got your text. I’m sorry I didn’t text you back, my phone’s been out of battery since last night and I couldn’t find my charger.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio could feel his lips pouting at the memory of the text he sent, and he couldn’t help but answer, rolling his eyes. Perhaps it was also the drink that was making him bold. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah, sure.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“No, it’s true.” Oliver still looked straight into his eyes. Oliver’s own were blue, really blue, and his eyelashes were long and dark and framed them perfectly - god, he was hot... </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Let me make it up to you. Let me take you out, tonight.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Wait. What?</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Take - take me out?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah. To get some actual food - if you’d like? No bar crap. There’s a Thai place downtown that is the end of the world. We could go have a late dinner, after my shift?”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio’s eyes were wide. His heart was beating fast. Was Oliver asking him out? He invited him to a restaurant, that’s not - that’s not what friends did, right? Not what people who just met last night did... </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I - I mean-“ he babbled, still wondering if he got it right.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The bar was getting busier. There were customers waiting by the bar. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The girl he’d met earlier behind the counter came back, her face still bored, her hands empty.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Hey kid, sorry but there’s no jacket here. Ilooked everywhere. You probably lost it.” She glanced at Elio’s half-drunk glass. “That’ll be five dollars.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">It made Elio blink, as if coming back from reality. He looked from the girl to Oliver, and the older man set his jaw, became serious again. For the first time, he looked unsure.</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Ok, thanks,” Elio said to the girl, and placed some money on the counter, but when he looked up, Oliver had gone to serve his customers, and was no longer looking at him. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio bit his lip. He’d had his drink. He’d paid. It was only six pm. Oliver had said after his shift.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">But Elio, stupidly, had not replied quickly enough and now he didn’t have Oliver’s attention anymore.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Shit. He couldn’t hang around at the bar until 10pm or something. He could leave - but Oliver said he couldn’t find his phone charger, so he surely couldn’t call. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Elio wanted to go for dinner with him, but he was also terrified.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Shit shit shit. What to do?</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>What do you think should Elio do? </p><p>Send me your option and find out which one I’ve gone for in the next chapter.... 😈</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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